


Handing Over

by Sarren



Category: Whitechapel (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-23
Updated: 2010-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-14 00:19:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/143257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarren/pseuds/Sarren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miles thinks Chandler deserves to be happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Handing Over

**Author's Note:**

  * For [laridaes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laridaes/gifts).



The mistletoe some wag had put up earlier over the kitchen door had claimed another unsuspecting victim. Everyone else was gathered in the lounge, thank God. The only reason Miles had been an unwilling witness was because he’d gone to the bog and had been just coming downstairs when Kent and the DI had happened to meet in the doorway. To Miles’s astonishment, the boy had finally gotten the balls to do what everyone except Chandler had known for years he’d been dying to do. Miles had waited for Chandler's reaction with the same sort of horrified fascination as one might watch a train crash.

“So,” he said, much later, unsurprised to find Chandler in contemplation of his fish. “You and Kent.”

Chandler huddled into his coat against the chill air. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You kissed him back.” Miles sat down next to him. “Got to say, didn’t see that one coming,” he said casually.

Chandler looked at him out of the corner of his eyes. “A momentary weakness. It won’t happen again.”

Miles rolled his eyes. “Give me one good reason.”

“One?” Chandler said, his voice rising a little. “I can give you several.”

“Go on then.”

“The age difference, for a start.”

“Ten years, give or take. There’s 15 between me and Judy. Never made no difference to us.”

Chandler sighed. “He hero-worships me. I’d be taking advantage.”

“Once maybe,” Miles granted him. “Not for a long time, though. In case you didn’t notice, young Kent’s grown up a lot these last few years.”

“Most importantly, I’m his DI,” Chandler said, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t need to tell you why that would be wrong.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll give you that. Never stopped anybody before, though. DI Perkins is famous for shagging any female officer naïve enough to fall for his line of bollocks.”

“Doesn’t make it right.”

“I know it doesn’t. I’m saying it’s not the same thing. With me retiring soon, and Kent stepping into my shoes as your DS, it's not as if he’s some innocent young constable you’d be seducing.”

Chandler turned to face him. “And that’s another thing,” he said firmly. “If it got out, his promotion might be called into question; accusations of favouritism could harm his career.”

“He’s more than earned it. His record speaks for itself.”

“And that reminds me,” Chandler went on, on a roll now. “Your enlightened attitude aside, it is still career suicide to be openly homosexual in the Metropolitan Police Service. In addition, our team isn’t exactly popular with the other branches. It’s possible Kent may even be the target of abuse.”

“Or you,” Miles pointed out. “So don’t be open about it, then,” he said flippantly.

Chandler frowned at him.

“Yeah, I know. It’s not your style.”

“Even if I were to consider sneaking about, the likelihood of our being discovered and the subsequent perception of the relationship as some sort of sordid affair—”

“It’s not sneaking about to be discreet.”

“You’re splitting hairs.”

”Not at all.” Miles argued. “Look, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. It doesn’t matter. Not to the _people_ who matter. We know the truth. We know you, Joe.”

Chandler looked touched. “Thank you, Ray.”

“My advice? Think about what’s best for you, for once.” Miles stood up, his bad knee giving him gyp, as usual. Chandler looked up at him, a vulnerable expression on his face. Chandler respected his opinion where it counted. Miles placed a fond hand on his shoulder. “You have the right to be happy, too, you know.”

Miles went back inside. Chandler didn’t follow him. Miles figured Chandler would be out there a while. He’d given the man quite a bit to think about.

Mansell and Kent were playing chess. Everyone else had gone home. Miles opened three beers and handed them each one. He took a swig from his own. “I’ll play the winner,” he said casually, and wasn’t at all surprised when Kent got checkmated a short time later. Kent relinquished his place to Miles. Miles pretended not to notice when he slipped out the room.

Neither the DI nor Kent had come in by the time he saw Mansell off. Judy had gone to bed long ago. Miles switched off all the excess lights and went upstairs. Chandler and Kent could let themselves out when they were ready.

Miles cleaned his teeth and then changed into his pyjamas without turning on the bedroom light. He started to get into bed and then stopped, torn between his curiosity and his respect for his colleagues’ privacy. He decided a quick look, just to see if they were indeed still there, couldn’t do any harm. He drew the curtain aside only far enough that he could distinguish two dark shapes sitting by the pond. If it hadn’t been a full moon, he wouldn’t have been able to make them out at all. As he watched, one figure leaned in toward the other. Miles dropped the curtain and climbed in to bed. Judy immediately turned over and flung an arm over him, as she often did when he came to bed late. It was a comfortable habit.

The thought that the DI would have someone looking out for him after Miles retired was a reassuring one. Chandler was a great detective but he had his weaknesses. His demons, as he called them. And when things got bad, sometimes he needed someone to lean on, someone to remind him he didn’t have to be perfect. Miles hadn’t ever thought the less of him for that. Neither had Kent. Kent understood the DI better than Chandler knew. Miles smiled to himself. Kent had never given up his practice of imitating the DI’s ritual of lining up his watch, pen, mobile and notepad neatly on his desk. Miles had long decided it was one of Kent’s many little ways of showing support for his boss and mentor.

Yes, it was good that Kent was the one taking over for him. Miles was looking forward to having more time to spend in the garden. He was thinking of enlarging the fish pond. Maybe he’d even get some goldfish to go with the carp.


End file.
